But, still, he is never certain as to what she would do. Feelings and actions and words could all reside in entirely different worlds. Sometimes (hopefully) they collided. But his gilded princess has revealed that she had lived a life where she had kept them separate in order to survive.
So, at her invitation, spoken with soft cream lips into the thickness of his hide, he grins. His eyes darken at her sensuously teasing nips, thick hide twitching with impatience between her pearly teeth— forgotten are the burns and wounds of battle. “Creative?” his voice rumbles lowly against her satin coat as he addresses her earlier words. He traces the curves of her barrel and flank with his lips, thick horn brushing against the top of her haunches.
Onyx lips and pale muzzle continue their exploration, similarly hued legs stepping around as he traces the line muscle in her haunches. He pauses, “Rexanna, I’d like to see how creative you can be,” he growls against her, roughly and playfully tugging the cream strands of her tail.
———fade to black———
He slides down beside her, buckskin coat nearly dark brown and slick with sweat. He sighs contentedly, brushing his wet shoulder against hers as he gently unsticks tendrils of mane from her neck with his muzzle. The brunt of emotions and lingering fervor of battle had caused him to be rougher and more powerful than he usually was with his slender Rexanna. “Are you okay?” he asks quietly, almost guiltily, amidst her mane.
stop chasing the rain.
@Rexanna